


The Ruin of Zelda: Shattering Wisdom

by Average_Bear



Category: The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: BDSM, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Smut, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Harems, Legend of Zelda References, Magic, Master/Slave, Mental Breakdown, Mental Coercion, Monsters, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Ocarina of Time, Post-Ocarina of Time, Post-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Average_Bear/pseuds/Average_Bear
Summary: It has been nine years since Zelda met the Hero of Time. Two years since she was captured by the wicked Ganondorf. Zelda has yet to learn of the Hero's fate and, more terrifying still, of her captor's plans for her. She awaits her Hero's return... in vain.It has been nine years since Zelda was hidden away by the devious Sheikah clan, delaying the Gerudo King's master plan. Two years since he succeeded in capturing the princess. Long has he considered his goal: to strip her of her Triforce of Wisdom. To dethrone a wielder of the Triforce was no simple task; it required the abandonment of the wielder's essence, the very persona that caused the Triforce to choose them. Mere murder would not grant him the Triforce of Wisdom. Torture would not alter the proud princess's mind. Ganondorf knew he would have to resort to more creative means to reach his treasure. Luckily, power has many meanings, many applications. The Gerudo King would break Zelda's mind; he would shatter her will itself.This is meant to be an erotic story following the "Fallen Hero" timeline in Ocarina of Time and Zelda's descent from princess to harem concubine. Please practice informed consent! My first piece, let me know what you think!
Relationships: Ganondorf/Impa (Legend of Zelda), Ganondorf/Nabooru (Legend of Zelda), Ganondorf/Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Impa/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	1. Two Years and the Fallen Hero

Zelda turned the page slowly. Each sentence was precious now, each word paramount to interpret and comprehend. Delicate fingers underlined text, eyes tired beyond their years scanning its meaning. She read for knowledge, for pleasure, and most importantly to remember. Literature was an unforeseen victim of the Gerudo King's rise, and though his monstrous servants brought her new books upon request, the princess knew that the libraries had burned in the sacking of the capital, that any writers had long since fled to Kakariko, and that each story she read represented a rapidly dwindling list of Hylian art that may never be recovered. Her black-barred window atop the accursed castle overlooked a fallen kingdom, its culture fading with its memory.

 _And thus_ , she thought to herself with a sigh, _I read, most importantly, to remember..._

The sharp crack of the torch flame lighting her room brought her back not to her present, but to nine years past, to the sound of hooves riding hard along Hyrule Field, the ominous cry of the Gerudo King's horse giving chase, the shouts of the guards defending Kakariko. When the guards had fell to Ganondorf's blade, the Sheikah had taken their place. They did not scream as the guards did. The fact that Impa succeeded in kidnapping the princess could only have meant they had won. This thought was naive; "winning" and "losing" was no binary trait, it was a scale, and the Sheikah had fallen somewhere in the middle of that scale. Their people had barely fought back the Gerudo King, finding victory only through deception. It was in the care of the Sheikah that Zelda witnessed the darkness of her kingdom. Torture, mental and physical, implemented upon monster and mankind alike. Lies woven as simply as common speech. This too, Impa would tell her, was wisdom. The crackling flame reminiscent of the cracking of Sheikah whips, Zelda shivered at her silent agreement.

 _Where are you, Link?_ she wondered again. Two years ago she'd been captured by Ganondorf. It was the last time she'd seen her Hero of Time, who had rested those seven years within the Sacred Realm, gaining strength. Just the thought of him brought her hope, a testament to Link's gallantry as the patron of Courage. He fought with a fearlessness that brought light to her darkened heart, even now. As terror encroached upon her as the days passed, still he made her brave. Still he protected her.

The room appeared to brighten around her. She felt her heart beating again, the blood in her veins, her mind blessed by the Goddesses themselves reinvigorated by thoughts of him. Link! Her Hero of Time who would return to defeat Ganondorf, climb the damned tower, and find her there brimming with the memories of her fallen kingdom, ready to bring peace and renaissance back to the land of Hyrule. With renewed fervor she dove back into her books. This was the last of her most recent requests; she would need to ask for more when the guards arrived with dinner. She would request fiction next, something playful, an escape from her more recently studious texts to lighten her soul. Zelda felt a small smile break across her face, as it happened from time to time even within this accursed tower.

A knock rattled her. Speak of the devil, dinner had arrived sooner than usual. Zelda placed her book by her side and fixed her dress, not that the silent guards that patrolled the tower ever appeared to care. "Enter," she called with authority, her chin raised as she sat by the moonlit window. She did not immediately notice that not one, but two guards were entering her room. Even slower was the realization was that neither held the dinner tray she'd come to expect. However, when she heard the heavy steps of leather and steel climbing the final steps of her tower, when the large, discolored hand gripped the edge of her door, she stood, recognizing the renewed horror rising within her, thoughts of Link fading as the wicked King invaded her quarters. Ganondorf entered her room for the first time in two years and _smiled._

* * *

"Princess..." he growled as politely as he could muster, bowing low as he had to her father long ago, his eyes flashing at her as they had through the throne room's window. An Iron Knuckle closed the door behind him. Though the room provided ample space for the princess, he could feel the space shrink upon itself with the addition of three hulking figures. Zelda's face was pale. He felt good.

"Vile _demon!_ " Zelda spat, twisting her hand into one of her spells, the blessed Triforce glowing upon her hand. He snapped quickly to his right. The corresponding guard moved forward as flame spouted from her palm, crashing into the guard's armor. He heard the pained shriek of the Gerudo woman within as the other Knuckle rushed toward Zelda and grabbed her wrist, twisting it behind her back. Zelda cried out in pain, her eyes locking with his own still.

"Stop!" Ganondorf shouted. "Release her immediately!" The Knuckle released her grip and stood to the side, her partner clutching at her chest and stepping behind the king. There was a pause in the room as the moment's adrenaline departed, both Zelda and the guards appearing unsure of what would follow. He had expected this; shock often begot rash action, which in turn begot opportunity. He was a man who grasped at opportunities and wrung them of their worth.

"Princess," he began again, "please calm yourself and sit. I do not intrude without purpose." His words called to the importance of his appearance here, an implied threat. Zelda remained standing in defiance for a moment as tension filled the room. His nod to the guard at her side convinced her to sit without further intervention. "You've lived in my castle for some time now, yet our paths do not cross. How do you fair these days?"

"Alight with confidence," she spoke, straightening her posture, "and hope for my kingdom's renewal." She sought to portray her fortitude. This too was quite predictable; the girl's will was strong.

"You betray your thoughts, dear Zelda." He willed his smirk to appear as playful, to dubious affect. "Confidence is certainty, while hope is a question. It's been a long time since you've seen your kingdom; I am sure you have wavered at times."

"I must disappoint you then," the princess sneered in rebellion, "for my hope regards only the extent of restoration, rather than the possibility of it at all. My confidence and hope are one and the same."

The girl had always had a cutting tongue, an ugly aspect of her wisdom. Words were her study and her forte. Ganondorf restrained himself; his forte was action, there was no need for complexity.

"You are clever, I'll not deny that. Yet all your wit has been for naught I am afraid." Ganondorf turned to the window, his back to the princess, eyes trained on the verdant fields in the distance cast gray by the darkness of the night. "Link is dead."

Silence hung in the room. "Lies," he heard her say. "You are a liar and a fool." Of course she would not believe him. To her, he represented everything evil in this world. The Sheikah had melded her mind into their perfect puppet, full of distrust. Though given her current situation her distrust was quite reasonable. However he had not come unprepared. He watched the color drain from her face as he turned, the hero's green cap grasped in one hand, two shining triangles glowing on the back of the other. Her breath quivered. Her eyes widened. She shrunk back in her chair, a groan escaping her lips.

"He made the same face, you know..." His mind danced with delight that threatened to sicken even himself, though his face and voice remained purposefully solemn. "Courage is not such a hard thing to break. It is dictated by the same hope we speak of; it cannot survive without hope. Destroying a man's courage is a simple thing with the right tools..." His eyes belied a threatening glare as he recalled the instruments of torture he'd found within the Sheikah's hideout in Kakariko. How many of his brethren had lost their hope at the hands of this kingdom, he wondered as he relayed the "Hero's" fate to the shivering princess. He shook, steadying his appearance. He needed to portray compassion in this moment; even if she saw through every lying gesture, the portrayal itself was important. "I will spare you the details. I am not here to terrify you, despite the nature of my news."

The princess was not responding. She was staring at the cap that laid at Ganondorf's feet. She wasn't listening to him anymore. Any further conversation would be wasted. Ironically, it was her wisdom that he needed her to show. He needed her defiance. He'd expected shock, but for some reason the princess's turmoil shook him in a manner he had not expected. He felt his guard weaken. He did not know what to say with her clever tongue so understandably caught. This part of his scheme was planned, and yet so different from expectation. As silence lingered for what seemed an eternity, the king of the desert's mind swayed nearly as much as the princess's body.

"I can see this is all too much for you." He said, walking to the door. The guard stepped forward to open it for him. Now the princess's eyes darted back to him. He saw the fire rise within her, but this too was useless to him, just the brazen reaction of a beast in despair. She yelled again, firing another bolt of flame in his direction suddenly, with barely any time spent casting. She'd prepared the first flame slowly as a ruse. The guards were slow to respond in their armor, but it was no matter. The Gerudo King stepped toward her, taking the blast of fire to his shoulder. He did not falter. Koume's flames were hotter than these and cast with more cruelty. He took her wrist and pulled her toward him, her face nearly crashing against his chest. He did not smile down at the crying princess. He did not seek to humiliate her in her sadness. He held her waist as she struggled against him, bashing her free fist against his face and chest to no avail. When he spoke, he did so with a caring unbecoming of his cruelty.

"I shall return another day, princess."

* * *

Ganondorf turned to leave the room. The guards followed behind him, though Zelda did not notice. Her welling eyes were full of the verdant green sown into the boy's cap, reminiscent of the fields and forests of her kingdom. When the door closed that green was all she could see. Darkness filled the room, invading the space left by the night's intruders, moonlight and the crack of a torch gone unnoticed by any within the wicked tower. The hero had fallen.


	2. The Fate of the Sheikah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion is strained by years spent apart.
> 
> A belief is challenged by another perspective.
> 
> A princess is summoned to dinner.

Days passed. Zelda had begun telling time not by the cloud-covered sky outside her window but by meals she'd refused. At first the guards respected her silent replies to their knocks, leaving their trays of food outside her door. She barely felt the hunger. The thirst was more intense. Sometimes she'd notice how dry her throat was, how parched her lips felt against her tongue. Link's cap made her forget those things. The sewing had been done carefully by nimble hands, tailored by the fabled Kokiri. It was soft to the touch and would have been quite comfortable to wear. It was torn in three places, now. One tear was near the brim, where she'd found a small bloodstain. She tried not to think about that one. Another lay by the seam that ran up the side of the cap, pulled apart in the rough of Link's adventures no doubt. The last tear was her favorite, all the way at the tip of the cap's end. She'd made up a story in her head about it. Link had twice ventured to Zora's Domain, where he'd surely swam in his clothing. This silly cap would have filled with water as he swam and fell off his head. Zelda liked to think that Link tried to swim in his cap several times before becoming frustrated with the whole thing; maybe he cut this little hole himself to let the water flow through. Would that have worked? Likely not, the cap itself would have been logged with water, but the thought itself was fun to consider. She dreamed about this fantasy sometimes while lying in her bed, pillow still damp with tears. After some time the guards began entering after they knocked, without her consent. She did not give them the pleasure of moving, remaining sprawled across the bed as if to rot there. They left food and water and left quickly. Zelda could not ignore her thirst for long, so for two days she drank the water and left the food to be taken back by the silent guards. After that the food became too prominent, she began to eat again. She did not desire death; starvation was not how Ganondorf would defeat her. Her mind would not let her succumb that way, the crest upon her hand a reminder that she was still a chosen prophet of the Goddesses, a patron of Wisdom, and a princess. Yet she still cursed her body's weakness with each bite, as if her refusal to eat would pain the king in some fashion. Eating brought her back to the present, back to the tower, and away from her happy dreams of Link emptying his hat of water aside the river.

"Princess?"

The guards rarely spoke upon entering her room, so this voice startled her as the door opened on this particular day. This voice was not masked by the metal of a helmet, as were the voices of the Gerudo within the Iron Knuckles. It was a woman's voice, not Ganondorf's. Zelda's mind filtered through questions and possibilities, though she did not move from her place on the bed to see. In a moment it would not matter. She could drift back off to sleep.

"Zelda..."

There was tenderness in this voice. She recognized it, though it was not one she had heard in years. The name escaped her. Still, her eyes remained focused on Link's cap resting gently upon her pillow. She quieted her mind and willed the intruder to leave. _Maybe_ , she mused to herself, _if I fall asleep I'll be alone when I wake._ There was no harm in trying. Her eyes fluttered and closed.

A weight on the bed next to her disturbed her attempt. A gentle hand on her hip alarmed her. Zelda sprung up, eyes wild, analyzing her invader. The enemy sat upon Zelda's bed gracefully, garbed in the silver and purple they'd worn throughout throughout their life, silver hair spilling across their shoulders. Their eyes were not hostile, not pretentious, without hatred. A familiar crest adorned their leather armor.

Zelda looked on stunned as the figure wiped a tear from her eye. "Impa?"

Leader of the Sheikah, protector of the princess, the woman that had raised Zelda and trained her to become a soldier within the shadows, Impa sat upon Zelda's bed and was caught in a sudden, powerful embrace. Zelda sobbed as Impa stroked her head and shushed her gently as she had when Zelda was a child. The door to the room closed, leaving the two of them in the room, the light of the cloud-covered sky filling the room for a time.

The tears stopped toward dusk, Zelda sniffling, Impa smiling sadly. "You..." Zelda stammered, not knowing what to say, what to ask, "You're here. Why are you here?"

Impa's voice was direct, yet tinged with care, a booming, mature voice that commanded attention and calm to those who heard it. Zelda had always found it to be a motherly voice. Impa spoke playfully. "Oh? Am I a welcome surprise for you, dear?"

"What happened?" Zelda asked. Two years ago Impa disappeared, around the time when Link had conquered the Shadow Temple. Zelda had assumed that Impa had become the Sage of Shadow, waiting within the Sacred Realm to assist in Ganondorf's defeat.

"Two years ago..." Impa said, still smiling sadly, her emotions regarding the event of her capture numbed by time. "Things changed. Link..." Her eyes glanced to the cap upon the bed, "He passed. Without a champion, the sages returned to this realm to fight Ganondorf ourselves. I was the only Sheikah left. I was captured. Then..." Her voice trailed off.

Zelda considered Ganondorf's eyes as he spoke of Link's demise, his talk of "the right tools". She'd understood his his allusion to the Sheikah's torture of the Gerudo; he had turned their practices against Link to break his will. Zelda's eyes searched Impa's face and arms for signs of scarring. "They tortured you?" She again asked a question she already knew the answer to.

"For some time, yes." She spoke plainly, "But that stopped long ago. They do not use the Sheikah's techniques anymore." Zelda noted Impa's wording, taking it as a sign of Impa's guilt for her clan's past actions. "The war is ending, I am taken care of quite well, now. I'm kept within another tower like this, though not as fancy. Not by far. You live in luxury, huh?" Impa's voice took a more playful tone as she looked around at Zelda's enormous bed, silk sheets and drapes, the pile of books resting by the fireplace with an iron torch nearby to provide light to the couch that lay before it.

Zelda could not help but grin, taking on a pretentious demeanor. "I'd take the bedrolls of the Sheikah Temple for a thousand nights before another in this silk, though the lack of snoring is quite the valued change!"

Impa laughed heartily. "You trained even in your sleep, Sheik!" She wore her instructor face in jest, "You'll sleep in the damned windmill if you need to, the Sheikah run aside horses and sleep in their enemies homes!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" Zelda called out, saluting and bursting into a giggle. A sudden wave of exhaustion passed over her; she hadn't laughed in years. Joy was tiresome now. She saw Link's cap in the corner of her eye again, her affect sobering. "Impa, why are you actually _here_?"

Silence took the room. Impa broke it with the same motherly authority as any other statement she'd made in their long history; "I'm here to bring you to dinner."

Zelda's temper rose quickly, the happiness of the reunion tainted by Impa's betrayal. "Who am I to have dinner with? You? I know _he's_ still in the castle. Have you become a messenger?"

"When I am told to be." Impa's voice evinced no signs of guilt. Zelda noted, Impa had been prepared for this.

"Then you're more than a messenger? You serve Ganondorf now? You betray your kingdom?"

The Sheikah's voice was infuriatingly calm. "This is my kingdom. This is _our_ kingdom."

" _Utter nonsense!_ " Zelda shouted, rising from the bed and spinning to face her former mentor. "You led Hyrule's covert forces for decades! Ganondorf's monsters pillaged the castle! The Gerudo slaughtered your friends and family!"

"And we slaughtered theirs." Impa's reply was quick and sharp, cutting into Zelda's impassioned rant. "We tortured them to death. Made them beg for death and threw their bodies into mass graves from which now they rise as hateful undead." Impa's gaze shifted to the floor. This was a complex issue to her. "Ganondorf's methods are cruel, but the Gerudo are a nation. Do you know why they invaded Hyrule? Why they overthrew the king?

"For power." Zelda knew her answer was likely wrong, but the demonizing of the Gerudo had been drilled into her since birth. She could not discard it so easily. "The Gerudo have lusted over Hylian lands for years. They kidnap our men to bolster their numbers. They experiment with forbidden magics that betray the Goddesses. They are a shunned nation."

"Shunned by _Hylians_." Impa spoke as if teaching her, gently but with confidence. It infuriated Zelda even further. "The Gerudo were restricted from our lands for years. They cannot produce enough crops or cattle to feed their people within the valley we trapped them in. They were imprisoned between endless desert and a border we closed. Yes, they invaded us, but we would have let them die across that canyon."

"So you forgive them, then? You bow to the Gerudo King?" Zelda spat, fists shaking.

"I will _never_ forgive them. But I have grown to _understand_ them."

Zelda had no response. Her fury raged, but her own mind clung to the concept of understanding the unknown, seeking answers. She knew that generations of rulers had neglected the Gerudo, leaving them to their own devices across the canyon. Of course they would have died; the valley was no place for a community to thrive. But they _killed_ Hylians. Destroyed her kingdom and imprisoned her atop this tower. Her emotions clashed with her rationality, the moral quandary leaving her mind scrambled and lost. She could not draw judgement of the Gerudo while Impa defended them.

"I don't _want_ to understand them. They..." Again, she pictured Link wringing out his silly cap. Tears rose again. But this time there was comfort. Zelda found herself in Impa's embrace, nestled within the tower's figure's comforting arms. "I've been here for _so long_."

Impa looked down at Zelda, a finger gently lifting her head up to face her. Tears flowed down Impa's face as well. "Zelda," she pleaded, "would you like to leave this tower?"

Descending the stairs of the tower was more difficult than Zelda had anticipated. Her legs were unused to anything aside from walking from her room to the washroom next door. Impa supported her by the arm, leading her down the spiral staircase gently. These stairs seemed to go on forever, and Zelda was reminded of just how tall her tower truly was. Torches lit the staircase, casting dancing shadows against the dark stone. They passed several doors, behind which Zelda heard either silence or the sounds of monsters. She wasn't sure which was more frightening.

Zelda counted five of these doors before Impa led her through a large stone arch. Their heels clicked loudly against the floor as they made their way down the hallway to a large dining room. The room was sparsely decorated, which highlighted the intricate architecture that adorned the walls from floor to ceiling some twenty feet above. Images of Iron Knuckles, moblins, and other dark forces were portrayed in jovial scenes of recreation, a sight that confused Zelda. A grand fireplace illuminated the hall as the light passing through the ornate stained-glass windows faded with the setting sun. It was within this flickering flame that Zelda first looked upon the long stone table that sat in the center of the room, with space enough to seat ten comfortably but only two seats. The table was already furnished with all manners of food; Zelda could not help but salivate, her meals having been lacking taste in her depression as of late. Steam rose from meat delicately sliced, lined by potatoes and carrots. A bowl of soup sat upon a dinner plate in front of the empty seat at the closest end of the table. Across the table's expanse sat the Gerudo King himself, sipping a glass of a red wine that clung to the glass's edge elegantly. The portrait was stunning, which only enraged Zelda further. She stood still, Impa at her side.

"Princess Zelda," the king spoke, setting down his glass and standing, bowing his head for a moment. "I am glad you've joined me. Please, sit."

"I am not here for you, usurper," Zelda retorted. Impa stepped forward and pulled Zelda's chair out for her. Zelda hesitated; she had not expected to sit, wanting to stand with authority, however Impa's gesture caught her off-guard. Impa looked to her, imploring. The guilt overcame Zelda's rebellion and she took her seat, pulling it in herself, making sure to scrap the ground loudly as she did so. She grasped at the wine that sat before her and drank half of it in a single swig, seeking some sort of escape from her current torment.

As she lowered her glass, she was shocked to see Impa walking toward Ganondorf's side of the table. She stepped just behind him and turned, her hands folded in front of her. She continued to portray her strength through her posture, though her position and body language belied subservience to the wicked king. Zelda grimaced.

"Please, eat and drink to your satisfaction," said Ganondorf, gesturing to the humorously large pile of food and alcohol before him. "We have much to discuss."

Zelda stabbed a piece of meat with her fork and thrust it into her mouth, neglecting all manner of nobility before her hero's killer. "I've nothing to discuss with you, invader," she spoke between rips into the glistening meat impaled upon her fork, "though if you must speak I'm sure my chewing can drown out your drivel."

Ganondorf laughed. He laughed as if he were as tall as the room itself, voice tinged with gravel, echoing throughout the hall. "I'm sure it can! I shall do the speaking then. Feel free to quip as you do, I know how you enjoy brandishing your tongue." He took a drink, preparing himself for what looked to be a speech. Zelda focused on the oven-roasted potatoes, which looked to be garnished fantastically.

"I am glad you've had your reunion with your former mentor," he said, referring to Impa without looking or gesturing to her. "Though she was a formidable foe in the past, she has grown to accept our kingdom as it is now. As it will be from now on." Zelda ignored his attempts to anger her, filling her cheeks with wine. "I'd like to discuss how that kingdom will grow. As I'm sure you are aware, a great deal of land was damaged or destroyed in this war. Repairs will take time. Reestablishing order will be difficult. In that time, more people will die. These people will not be our soldiers; it is civilians that die in the aftermath of war. There is a simple solution to the problem of how to rebuild; the Triforce."

Zelda's eyes flicked to him, locking on Ganondorf's around the glasses, candles, and meals. "Over my dead body." She broke her silence for a moment, returning to her eating, the crest on her hand glowing as if in defiance.

"Indeed..." He spoke, a growl eminating from his chest, violence radiating from his stare, "and yet I shall not kill you, princess, for there is no meaning in doing so. Your death would only cast the Triforce of Wisdom back into the world, starting another wild hunt. I will not make my people wait for such a risky chase while there is work to be done. You see, with the Triforce in hand I can revitalize the land's crops, reestablish trade routes, mend relationships with the other nations. Not only that, but the people themselves need homes rebuild. The Gerudo will need space to live within Hyrule's borders. Our cattle..."

His voice trailed off. Zelda was no longer listening, a purposeful endeavor on her part. _This fool can rattle on all he wants,_ she thought between gulps of wine, _but I have no obligation to listen to talks of rebuilding from the man who destroyed it all._ She smiled to herself and she imagined his frustration growing. Maybe he'd send her back to her tower if she ignored him long enough.

"Hm." She heard him grunt, "Impa, _sæ vipramas_."

Zelda's eyes shot up. He'd spoken in Gerudo just then; she'd only understood " _sæ_ " as "me". She looked to Impa, who appeared taken aback by his sudden statement. Many Sheikah had been trained to speak Gerudo for the purpose of collecting information, though Zelda had not learned to speak it herself. As the leader of the Sheikah, Impa would speak the language quite well.

Impa looked uncomfortable, her powerful demeanor weakened, that visage of subservience highlighted by her failing posture. She stuttered as she replied, "H-here? But..." Impa's eyes flicked to Zelda. She was trying to hide something from the princess, that was clear. Zelda could tell these two had conversed about this very situation before, that some sort of agreement was currently being debated within the few words and furtive glances cast about in this moment. Zelda, charismatic noble as she was, could not parse the context. An undefinable tension unlike any other she'd experienced burdened the air around her.

Ganondorf smiled, noticing Zelda's renewed attention. He spoke to Impa, tapping on the table before him. " _Pas zho. Upéki tarebeza, vai_."

Impa did not appear reassured by his response. Rather, her posturing faltered even further. Her knees buckled. She wrung her hands. She avoided Zelda's gaze. Zelda had never seen her former mentor like this. Impa appeared embarrassed. Her heels clicked against the floor as the slowly walked to the edge of the table. Stunned, Zelda watched as the mature, powerful Sheikah lowered herself onto her hands and knees and crawled under the table, disappearing beneath the stone. Zelda sat facing Ganondorf, who began to cut into a steak before him. As he cut and consumed the meat before him, the room was nearly silent aside from the sound of his utensils upon his plate. There was another sound there, something of fabric moving potentially, but it was impossible for Zelda to interpret.

The king began to speak again. "There's no need for me to discuss the details. You know the good that could be done with the Triforce. You reject my offer out of pride and anger. But you too will come to understand what needs to be done. You will come to respect the nation that is to be born out of the ashes of Hyrule. You will acknowledge my dominion of the kingdom and you will give me the Triforce of Wisdom of your own free will. Together, we will revive this kingdom..."

Zelda wasn't listening, though this was now unintentional. Her mind was racing with questions about what she had just witnessed. _Where did Impa go? Why did she go under the table? What did he tell her to do? What is she doing?_ Zelda scanned Ganondorf's face, searching for answers, but there were none to be found there, only his continuous ranting about "the rise of the kingdom" and some sort of "plans" and "compromise" he had for the prisoner princess. Zelda's wise mind crept ever closer to questions that Zelda did not want to ask, possibilities that she did not want to consider. The absurdity of the situation baffled her. Her intellect forced a disgusting question to the forefront of her consciousness, preventing her from avoiding its consideration: _Are they doing something together?_ Zelda bent to look under the table-

"STOP." Ganondorf's command ripped through her like thunder through the sky, stopping her before she could see more than her own feet under the table. She straightened herself and looked at him, fear welling up within the space created by the situation's confusion. Ganondorf's eyes were locked with her own, they were all she could see. His eyes were smiling wildly, and there was something else there. Pride? Pretension? A blood boiled beneath them, and she felt her own filling her head; she was _blushing,_ for some reason.

His hand disappeared under the table, and Zelda heard a strange sound, Impa's voice, what sounded like a wretch, a gag. The king spoke, his sneering teeth jagged, wretched; "She's asked that you don't see."

 _She's asked that you don't see. She's asked that you don't see. She's asked that you don't see._ His words echoed in Zelda's brain. Zelda's thoughts were racing yet scattered, considering everything and exploring nothing, his statement the one constant in her mind. Ganondorf continued to speak. Continued to rant about her future. Her place here. Submission to the crown. The words from his mouth were drowned by those that filled her face with heat: _She's asked that you don't see._

 _"Do you have something to say?_ " She hardly registered his voice. She shook her head slightly, returning to the moment. She was standing now - she did not know how long she'd been standing. Ganondorf stared at her, his expression impalpable to her now. The fire cracked next to them. The lavish meal grew cold before them. The light of the sun had faded. Ganondorf's hands were resting upon his wine glass. A quiet _gulping_ sound rippled through the air, passing through her, causing her to shiver.

"I will return to my room" Her own voice sounded miles away, but she agreed with the statement. She had to leave. Now. Yet she could not move. She waited for his response. _I cannot move_.

"Very well," Ganondorf said, a hand disappearing below the table again. "I will see you soon, princess. I shall give Impa your regards."

Zelda did not recall pushing away her chair, nor rushing out of the room, eyes locked upon the floor, blood rushing to her face. She did not recall the stairs, nor the five doors she passed on her way up. She would recall the guards closing the door to her room behind her, leaving her along in her room, the bed where Impa had sat before her, Link's cap upon the pillow. She would recall her body shaking. Her eyes forced shut. Biting her lip.

* * *

Ganondorf grabbed the bottle of wine and drained what remained into his mouth. He sighed and wiped his chin, a grin upon his face. Impa stood aside him now, her eyes locked upon him, her cheeks shining red. Her mouth was closed tight, pursed curiously. "Did you enjoy seeing your friend?"

Impa nodded, her lips remaining sealed tight. He did not understand. He questioned her: "Why do you not speak? What's the matter, girl?"

She looked to the ground, her blushing intensifying even more, her legs buckling, hands twisting again. It was a moment before the king understood her dilemna. He roared with laughter that crashed against the stone walls of the room and spurred Impa to grasp at her heart as it raced in her chest.

" _Lir._ " He commanded. Drink.

Impa swallowed, raising her chin to demonstrate her throat opening, drinking. She gasped, her breathing ragged. When she looked at him again there was no anger, no disdain, no sign of her previous aggression toward him. There was only lust. Ganondorf's laughter filled the castle's halls, as did the Sheikah's cries. The master took his slave in the dining hall that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've found an amazing fan-made Gerudo dictionary called "Va Ehenív: Va Néλivi žu Va Gérudošék (Ehenív: The Language of The Gerudo)". It does differ from the language spoken by the Gerudo of Breath of the Wild, but as the website states differences in language are likely to arise over 10,000 years. That being said, I will be using the occasional word or two from BotW's Gerudo language solely based on personal preference. Please check out the creator's dictionary if you have any interest in the Gerudo language, it's clear they worked hard to put it together!
> 
> http://va-eheniv.conlang.org/gerudolang1.html


	3. Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship tainted by confusion.
> 
> The king considers his next move.
> 
> A toy becomes a tool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS BEFORE READING THIS CHAPTER - POTENTIAL TRIGGERS

Impa returned to Zelda's chambers the next night. To her credit, she'd announced herself at the door before entering, allowing Zelda to consider whether to allow her entry. Zelda had feared Impa's knock at the door that night; a day or two to collect herself after the previous night's events would have been a mercy. The circumstances of her imprisonment were working against her better judgement now. She'd just reunited with Impa after years of isolation. Talking so someone she cared about was powerful beyond measure. Before, her aptitude for self-isolation in the pursuit of her studies had gotten her by, barely. Now, with a loved one just a door away, asking to connect, she felt every moment of her social starvation. She craved conversation. Communication of any form other than the passing comment of a guard delivering a tray of food.

However, once Zelda had mustered up enough courage to invite Impa in, she immediately realized that said communication would be difficult to move forward with. Impa and Zelda sat together on Zelda's bed as they had the night before, but silence filled the air. Zelda could not look at her mentor, thoughts of dinner spiraling in her head once again. She could barely see Impa out of the corner of her eye sitting motionless, hands folded upon her lap. The awkwardness lingered for what felt like an hour, until Zelda could no longer endure it. She would approach the topic with sensitivity and understanding befitting the relationship the two had cultivated over the years, out of respect for her friend.

When Zelda turned to speak, Impa was already looking into her eyes. Zelda felt heat rise to her cheeks and averted her gaze. "Impa," she murmured, "I'm glad you're here..."

Impa's reply was casual, as if she were not experiencing the tension that burdened Zelda's every word. "I'm glad to be here, princess. After so long, it's great to see you again." She paused, waiting for Zelda's inevitable question.

The princess sighed before asking; "Are you going to ask me to go to dinner again?" She pictured Impa under the table, envisioning merely silhouettes, actively avoiding progressing the thought with all her might.

"No." Impa's response shocked Zelda. She'd expected Ganondorf to escalate immediately after the previous night, throwing Zelda into further despair as he displayed his dominance over the women's circumstances. "Tonight is just for us to spend some time together, talk, and relax."

"Oh," Zelda responded quietly, "that's nice. I appreciate that."

"And I have a little surprise for you..." Impa's voice was building, showing more of her previous personality. Zelda was hesitant, not sure what a surprise would entail. Yet, despite her hesitation, Zelda's desire to reconnect twisted her rationality with surprising ease. Her pointed ears perked up, eager to hear her what her mentor had planned for a night of "relaxing", which in the past had only ever involved a singular activity. The princess's suspicions were confirmed immediately: "The guards have a little alcohol for us to enjoy, though I told them you'll likely only need a single glass of wine..."

"Impa!" Zelda blurted out, forgetting her situation for a moment and looking at her companion directly, her confirmed suspicions giving rise to a forgotten, playful affect. "I'll have you know that my tolerance for alcohol has grown quite notably since my time at the temple! The guards bring it to me on demand, and reading with a bottle of wine is a fun way to pass the time! I've drank alcohol in the bath before, too!" Zelda planted her hands on the bed and leaned in close to Impa, emphasizing her decree; "I've finished an entire bottle of wine in a single evening. By myself! The _whole bottle_!" Her boasts were true; when the monotony of her imprisonment had crept in, Zelda had occasionally turned to alcohol to lessen the burden of her isolation. It was hardly to the degree that she was trying to present, however the half-truth was enough to give her confidence in her claims.

The Sheikah's eyes widened in feigned surprise. Her voice dripped with playful sarcasm. "Wow, _really_ impressive, cadet. A whole bottle of wine? You can finally compete with the grannies in Kakariko."

Zelda's brow furrowed. With chagrin she remembered Impa guzzling ale at the town tavern and recognized how childish her previous boast had been. During Zelda's training, she'd thought that Impa could have emptied half of an entire winery. "Hilarious." Zelda replied, trying to take initiative in their verbal sparring. "Guards!" The door opened and the helmet of a guard peeked into the room. "Bring us our dinner and _three_ bottles of wine!"

Now Impa's surprise was genuine. "Planning to drink yourself to sleep?"

"The way you shout when you're drunk," Zelda sneered, "I'll _need_ to!"

The two laughed for a moment together before Zelda returned to the moment, allowing the awkwardness to once again creep into the room as if it emanated from the bed itself. However even in the silence now she found herself smiling. _Is it alright to smile here, right now?_ she wondered to herself. _We still haven't talked about it. I don't want to talk about it. Can I just enjoy this moment, without questioning, without investigating or studying it, just for a few hours?_ Zelda's desire to bond with her old friend clashed with her more rational mind, but as if to answer her dilemma there was a rapid knock on the door, the guards arriving with their food and drink.

Impa stood, taking the trays from the guards and shooing them away, quite similar to how she'd often shoo away the younger cadets that would crowd around her in the town at night. She laid the trays on Zelda's table and took a bottle of red wine, tossing it to Zelda on the bed. The wines provided were nicer than usual, a familiar brand that harvested their grapes near Lake Hylia. Zelda could still recall the taste; a sweet, lingering red that filled the mouth with a pleasant aftertaste. It was a favorite of hers, though she reasoned that it showing up here was more likely coincidence than some scheme. Impa took a bottle for herself and, using a corkscrew the guards had provided, twisted out the cork. She threw the corkscrew onto the bed beside Zelda, who took several moments to uncork her own bottle.

"What about the glasses?" asked Zelda, glancing at the two wide-rimmed crystal glasses on the tray.

Impa approached Zelda and held out her wine bottle. She broke into a challenging smirk. "I thought you could finish a whole bottle, _little princess_?"

Zelda matched Impa's grin, her competitive nature alighting at Impa's mocking tone. The questions stopped now. She allowed them to stop. There was comfort in this discussion, so reminiscent of their times in Kakariko. Maybe she'd end up tricked again. Maybe she'd experience another absurd event. The pain of that, she thought, would be worth a night with Impa. "Very well, _ma'am_ ," she replied, clinking her bottle against Impa's, "I'll show you the results of my training."

The two brought their bottles to their lips, an opening to their night of rekindling friendship, a truce brokered out of love.

* * *

Ganondorf paced his castle's library, eyeing the spots where dust collected upon empty shelves. The structure of the room had been rebuilt and remodeled to match the architecture of the surrounding floor, however many of the texts themselves had been lost in the battle with the Hylian king, impossible to recover. Once the reconstruction had completed, he'd immediately began importing Gerudo texts. Unfortunately, due to lack of resources Gerudo writing was not nearly as expansive as that of the Hylians. The libraries of neighboring towns could not compare to what the main castle had previously held, and Ganondorf figured that stripping the common folk of their literature would likely create some well-reasoned ill-will among the subjects of his still relatively newly conquered kingdom. Therefore, the shelves remained empty, leaving sizable gaps in the library's collection. So too did Ganondorf question himself.

"Bring me Nabooru," he commanded his nearby guards, who rushed off to fetch the Gerudo woman. Elsewhere in the castle, Impa and Zelda were hopefully enjoying their night together. While the previous night's antics had gone exactly as planned, he hesitated at the next step, not out of fear but in respect for its importance. Imagining the two women enjoying their wine, he poured himself a glass as well and raised his glass, toasting only the books sparsely populating the shelves around him and the remaining guard standing motionless by the door. To others he may have looked sad, alone in this dark, echoing room. To the Gerudo king, his solitary celebration was merely a natural consequence of his victory, a precursor to greater times ahead. He heard the sound of clinking chain, the guard returning with the Gerudo slave. He turned to see Nabooru, the first time they'd seen each other in months. 

Nearly a decade ago, Nabooru was Ganondorf's right hand. She had been instrumental in the initial phase of his plans, training his armies and running intelligence operations in preparation for Hyrule’s invasion. However, he discovered that she had been planning to undermine him all along. Koume and Kotake had gathered a handful of loyal followers to the Spirit Temple in the desert, meaning to use their magic to create more powerful soldiers. Nabooru meant to disrupt their plot and then continue on a rampage of sabotage from there. She’d later confess to even allying herself with the young Hero of Time. Luckily she failed in her mission and was captured. For seven years she once again served the Gerudo kingdom with loyalty under the magical control of the twin witches. She was released by the hero and even became the Sage of Spirit, according to her own testimony. When the hero died, Nabooru was one of the sages that chose to return to the mortal realm to face Ganondorf. She was captured sometime before Impa.

Nabooru received the full brunt of the king’s wrath for her part in Twinrova’s death. Ganondorf personally saw to her treatment. The first months were nothing but brutal torture. She was kept in Ganondorf’s bedchambers, left available for punishment at his whim. He had a collection of knives and whips at the ready, leaving her with a collection of scars but never causing enough harm to permanently damage what he considered his plaything. After some time she stopped responding as strongly to the physical harm, becoming numb to most of it, yet he feared escalation would break her. He wanted her alive, suffering eternally for Twinrova’s death.

It was one night when Ganondorf awoke in the early morning that his treatment of her changed. He rose in heat, his cock hard beneath the sheets of his bed. As he sat up in the darkness of the room, he saw Nabooru, arms and legs chained to the ceiling and floor, hanging in front of the mirror, ragged clothing torn to shreds, her figure a silhouette in the moonlight, head hanging in uncomfortable slumber. Though his hatred of her persisted, he felt a novel feeling toward her in that moment: lust. Typically he would turn to a member of his harem to satisfy such urges, as there were countless Gerudo eager to be at the king’s disposal. However, he had never taken an unwilling prisoner. She would be his first in this matter. The crest of the Triforce of Power glowed on his hand as he threw the sheets from his bed, rising from his slumber and approaching the sleeping prisoner. The room was painted a beautiful blue, he recalled, highlighting her flowing red hair that nearly enveloped her body.

His breathing must have been ragged, as Nabooru had roused from her sleep, her head lifting slightly. Her eyes burned with scarlet fire, defiant still to this day, meeting his, then noticing his nudity. She scanned his body, noting his ample chest, his flexing abdominal muscles, and finally the cock that pointed at her, more threatening than any knife he’d held to her before. Her breath caught in her throat. Though she was the one clothed and he nude, Ganondorf had never felt more powerful. His eyes glossing over, lost in arousal, he tore what remained of her clothing from her body. Her face and surprised scream revealed an emotion he hadn’t seen from her in a long time: fear. One hand rushed at her chest, the other at her backside, his teeth at the base of her neck, his bite holding her against him, his cock resting upon her thigh. He felt the landscape his torture had created upon her body, scars rough to the touch interspersed with valleys of soft, warm, unharmed skin. He could hardly see from his new position, his face now buried in her hair, occasionally releasing his bite to look down at her breasts as he kneaded them fiercely, building his raging lust even further, exploring how his touching, twitching, scratching, rubbing, and biting made her gasps louder and louder, her shaking more violent, her hips swaying more wildly has she hung from her bondage. 

Ganondorf glared into her tearful eyes as he shifted his hand from her ass to her pelvis, snaking his hand downward, watching her tremble as his fingers made their way to her pussy. Fresh tears sprang at his touch, her breathing coming in small, quiet gasps now as he worked his way inside of her. She was looking down now, watching his hand thrusting at her. There was no attempt to pleasure her here. He was making sure she was ready, ensuring he could use her without breaking her. Nabooru’s body was betraying her; he could feel her getting wet, and quickly. Her face was red with heat. He could fit more of his fingers into her now. He was moving faster. He could hardly bear it. His cock throbbed for her, helpless in his grasp.

A bestial snarl escaped his throat as he roared, “Guards!” His protectors rushed into the room, their expressions impossible to read beyond their helmets as he continued to toy with Nabooru’s body. As for his plaything, she paid no attention to their entry, her fear keeping her entranced on her sexual torment. Ganondorf commanded his guards, “Release the shackles ‘round her ankles. Now!” The guards hurried to his either side, lowering themselves to Nabooru’s feet, unlatching her bindings and stepping back, awaiting further orders.

The guards did not receive their orders yet. As soon as the shackles were removed, Ganondorf gripped the back of Nabooru’s legs and lifted hard, raising them into the air, lining his cock up with her now glistening vagina. Before she could mutter a word of protest, Ganondorf let out a harsh laugh laced with gravel and pushed her back against the window, the entirety of his length thrusting into her at once. He felt her shaking within his grasp as he held himself within her, savoring her warmth constricting around him. She moaned harshly, watching the spot where they joined as Ganondorf slowly slid himself out of her. She gazed up at him. She whimpered. She whimpered and drove him over the edge. She whimpered and he fucked her. He forced his cock into her pussy and fucked her, using her, harming her, choking her - _fucking_ her. As he dominated her weakened body before his waiting guards, the crest upon his hand flashed rhythmically, almost matching his aggressive pace. _This too is power_ , he thought to himself. _This too, is a way…_

Now, years later, Nabooru lay before him on a table within the library, small rings hanging from her pierced nipples, arms bound above her head, fear once again in her eyes, though this time tainted with anticipation. She hated him still, he knew, but she had grown used to his cruel touch. She was a toy for him now, a position she had now resigned herself to. The table below her pelvis was already wet as her body prepared itself for his invasion. However this encounter was different, for when his touch came it was not invasive, not aggressive, not hateful. Ganondorf towered above her, still examining her as a mere object, but his hands were gentle upon her, pressing into her slowly. His hand wandered around her legs, breasts, and stomach, exploring each with mild curiosity. Nabooru appeared to be confused, which brought a slight smile to his face. He rested his hand upon the branding scar on her pelvis that marked her as a slave of the king. He brought his thumb to her clitoris, slowly circling it, not yet providing her the pressure he knew she expected. Her eyes were locked upon his, her expression more fearful than before, but her lust growing more visibly powerful than it’d ever been before. She was letting her soft moans escape freely, where she typically fought against such lewdness. She wanted it. Her hips shifted, searching for him, looking to be touched in just the right place. Ganondorf continued to tease her, judging her responses, seeing how her lust grew before letting the pad of his thumb glance across the surface of her clit and then press into it slowly, hard. Her response was loud, echoes piercing the silence of the library, surprise mixed into her display of longing. He noted each twitch of her face, every sound, and the movements of his own hand as he triggered the feelings that invoked them. This was the first night that Ganondorf would use this toy for practice rather than pleasure, as he had with Impa long ago. Gaining the Triforce of Wisdom would be a difficult process, but he’d found his approach, a way to mold her. He imagined Nabooru as Princess Zelda, found her desire, and _used_ it.

* * *

Far above, in a lonesome tower guarded by Gerudo soldiers, Princess Zelda and a slave to the king laid upon a bed, bottles of alcohol littering the floor, hands interlocked. The princess slept. She'd fallen asleep laughing. The king's slave watched her sleeping, a tender look upon her face. She knew what laid ahead for the girl. She knew that in many ways it'd be easier for Zelda than it had been for her, yet conceded that it would be more difficult in a much more important way. Somewhere in Zelda's consciousness she registered a pressure upon her lips. A kiss. Her first! she thought playfully, her dreams twisting and turning, happily guarded by intoxication and the Goddess's blessings as the Sheikah left the room, off to report success to her awaiting master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far! This is my first attempt at writing this type of scene, so please feel free to give feedback!


End file.
